Thanks for the reviews of chapter 2. Enjoy this chapter!

3. Mixed Emotions

How do I loathe thee?
Let me count the ways.

I hate your big dumb Quidditch skills,
And the way you read my mind…

"So Lily? You going to the game tomorrow?"

James had sidled over to Lily in their "last night in Gryffindor tower" party, clutching two butterbeers, one of which he handed to her.

She rolled her eyes as she took it. "Of course I am. You know full well I have to go to support Alice."

Alice was Lily's best friend and a chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. James nodded. "And what about me? You have to admit you want to come and see me… check out the muscles in action…" He flexed a bicep.

"Whatever," Lily said, taking a drink of her own butterbeer.

James shrugged. "You like me, Lily. That's why you're coming."

Lily laughed. "If that's what you think, fine…"

"I know that's why you're coming. You've liked me for ages, you just daren't admit it."

"James, you're drunk."

He shrugged again and took her hand. To her own intense surprise, she didn't snatch it away immediately.

He tugged her over to a corner of the room. "A drunken mind speaks a sober heart. I love you, and I know you love me."

Lily stared at him, and angrily found herself flushing. "James, you're crazy. Of course I don't love you." Even as she said it she found herself looking at him from a different point of view for the first time- she dismissed those thoughts immediately.

James laughed and lifted her hand to his face. He kissed it softly, and after a moment she snatched it away. "Don't," she muttered, looking away towards her friend Mary, who had apparently won Sirius over, judging by their slobbering over one another. Sickened, she looked back at James, and instantly wished she had not. He was staring at her again.

Before she could react, he was kissing her, whole-heartedly and full on the mouth. One hand was pressed firmly in the small of her back, the other already tangled in her hair. She couldn't be enjoying this… no, she wasn't. She pulled away.

James looked at her. "Lily?" His hand was warm on her back as she stared at him.

She bit her lip, where the scent of James' warm, butterbeer-like smell lingered. He lifted a hand to mess up his hair; a nervous trait of his she had long since been annoyed by. Now it made her feel guilty. She shook her head. "…I'm sorry."

She pulled herself away from James and covered her mouth with one hand, letting her butterbeer bottle fall with a clang to the floor as she ran away and up the girls' staircase. It was only when she was on her own bed, in her own dormitory with the hangings shut tightly around her that she allowed herself to think.

Surely she didn't feel affection for James Potter, for God's sake. She couldn't, could she? She realised with a groan that, although she would never admit it aloud, she did enjoy his, albeit tiresome, friendly company on their patrols. But- this wasn't real affection, was it? She didn't fancy him, like she'd fancied Remus for a couple of previous years. She didn't even entertain the thought that she might love him- that was crazy. No. It was just a crush, if anything, and of course, it was all induced by the mixture of firewhiskey, butterbeer, and a strange concoction of Sirius' that she had consumed. And of course, she only responded to the kiss because she felt sorry for him, after he had made her feel so guilty by being frosty towards him in Dumbledore's office early.

She laughed now at her previous misconceptions of her own emotions. She hated James Potter- had always done. This year was the only time they had actually progressed to a half-friendship.

Glad she had finally deciphered the puzzle of her own doing; she fell back against the pillows and sank effortlessly into sleep.

James was downing yet another glass of firewhiskey downstairs. He shuddered as the fiery liquid slid down his back, warming him all over. He was pouring himself another one when Remus cautiously approached.

"James?"

James inclined his head to Remus. "Mate."

Remus reached for the bottle of firewhiskey. "Haven't you had enough?"

James laughed bitterly. "Yes. No. I don't know."

"James, please." Remus extracted the bottle from his friend's hands gently and steered him over to an armchair.

James slumped against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. "Man, I've screwed it up."

Remus occupied the chair opposite James. "You've screwed what up?"

"Me and Lily." Even though James was slurring his words Remus could tell he meant what he was saying.

"How?"

"I kissed her."

"Isn't that good?"

"She pulled away."

"Ah."

"Moony, I just don't know what to do."

"I wish I could tell you what to do, but I don't know either."

"I love her."

"Do you really?"

James nodded sincerely.

"Do you think she likes you?"

James laughed and shook his head. "Not a bit."

"Then- you'll have to woo her at Quidditch tomorrow. Come on, James, let's get you to bed." He pulled James' arm around his neck and the two staggered up the stairs. Remus sat James on his bed and then went to retrieve his other two inebriated friends.

James pulled the hangings shut around him but remained sat on the bed, messing up his hair. He thought of kissing Lily, and her pulling away, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He coughed gruffly and fell back against the pillows. At least she hadn't slapped him.

James had already scored sixteen times when Lily finally arrived at the game. He waved at her jauntily as he scored his seventeenth but she ignored him and continued to wave her "Go Alice" banner rather groggily.

Lily hated to admit it- but he was good. For every five goals he scored, Alice scored one- and he appeared to be an excellent attacker as well, making sure that no Slytherin even touched the Quaffle.

Gryffindor won 750 – 80 in the end, so naturally there was an enormous party for the second time in Gryffindor Tower- only James and Lily couldn't attend because they were moving into their new rooms.

"So…" James was sat on one of their two plush red couches by the fire, dangling his arm over the arm of the seat.

Lily was arranging photos of her parents and sister on the fireplace mantle. "So?"

"Are we going to try to be friends now or go back to you hating me?"

"Whichever suits you," Lily said carefully.

"Lily- I…"

"Let's forget last night ever happened, James."

"Oh."

"Isn't that what you want?"

"I know it isn't what you want, Lily." He stood and silently moved to stand behind her- she hadn't noticed. "I know you enjoyed that kiss as much as I did."

James could see the blush creeping up the back of her neck. "Yes, that's why I pulled away…" She said sarcastically.

"I know you like me," he said.

She whipped round. "James P- oh!"

She hadn't anticipated that he would have been stood right behind her, his face so intoxicatingly close she could smell him.

James raised one eyebrow and leaned closer still.

She ducked under him and ran out into the middle of the room. "You're not the only one with good reflexes," she said, and promptly disappeared into her room.

She sat down on her new, large double bed and put her head in her hands. She'd been thinking- where had James thought of this whole idea that she liked him? She hated to admit it, but maybe there was some part of her, very deep down, that actually did. His quirky mannerisms, his obvious affection for her, his loyalty to his friends, his excellence at Quidditch, and- regrettably- his good looks- they all had to count for something, didn't they? Maybe, she should listen to him. Maybe she did like him, she just hadn't realised- only he had. Was he better at reading her than herself? She shook herself. No. She hated him- always had done- always would do. Especially now he was trying to pressure her into liking him and showing off about his wretched Quidditch all the time…

She woke up hours later- the first thing she thought of was how much she disliked James. Contented, she realised perhaps her emotions were back to normal now.

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